Beyond the mirror
by Avid fangirl for life
Summary: Swan Queen AU. Starts with Regina and Emma as children. They grow up in different worlds but their greatest wish is for a friend who will understand them in a way that no other person can.
1. Chapter 1

It is hours before bedtime one Thursday evening when Regina finds herself sent to her room without supper, a bloody upper lip the testimony of her punishment. Regina is used to being punished, Mother says that it is the only way to teach her to be a proper Lady, but today the punishment feels very unfair and most unjust. She is not entirely sure what it is that she did exactly, but she knows that she will be careful to not anger Mother again in such a way.

Mother says that her punishments serve as lessons that only she can teach her. Mother says that only a Mother can teach a daughter such lessons. And only a daughter can learn them. Regina knows that Mother had hit her hard with the back of her hand (her ring had caught Regina's lip) because she hadn't liked the look on her face when she had happened to turn around. She's just not entirely sure what she should do about it. She's not sure what she can do to sort this.

She studies the cut in the mirror and finds that she has blood smeared all over her face, the cut is quite deep, deeper than usual. She supposes that she must of angered Mother more than usual. Because Mother had used more force than she normally would. Regina hopes that it won't scar, because surely Mother will blame her for that as well. She will blame her for the blemish on her beauty, and then she will be punished all over again.

Mother in her anger is scary, but she knows that Mother only gets like that because she loves her. Mother loves her more than other Mothers love their daughters and that is why she must be punished. Because she is not the perfect daughter, not yet. She will be one day, she just knows she will be.

One day, Regina will please her Mother and she will never again have to worry about displeasing her. One day, and Regina longs for such a day, she will please Mother beyond her imagination. Because Mother is the only person in the world who loves her. Just the way it should be.

Having only Mother to love her sometimes made her very lonely. Mother loves her, and she knows that, but sometimes she longs for someone to talk to, someone her own age, who could understand her.

Sometimes she wishes for a friend, she wants another person who understands her, who makes her feel less lonely, less alone. But she would never make such a wish, Mother has always made it very clear that she is never to rely on fairies. So when she closes her eyes, she makes sure not to think the word wish, she never lets it pass through her thoughts, because Mother would surely punish her for such a thing.

She closes her eyes as she stands in front of the mirror, and she finds herself feeling very alone, more so than usual, and it makes her tummy ache with longing. She screws her eyes shut, so tightly shut that no light sneaks through, and she thinks really hard about how much she wants someone other than Mother. Because Mother loves her, but it doesn't always feel that way. And Regina almost slips, she almost lets herself wish because she has always longed for a friend.

She stays in front of the mirror with her eyes closed for so long that her head starts to ache and swim in a dizzying fashion. So when she opens her eyes, after so long that it takes a great deal of blinking for her eyes to adjust, what she sees greatly surprises her. In the mirror, or rather through the mirror, is a pretty little blonde girl and a very large man. The girl is bleeding and crying, curling in on herself, trying to make herself a smaller target. Regina knows the picture before her well, it reminds her of Mother in her anger and her before she learnt how to take a beating with the 'dignity and poise' (her Mother's words) of a lady. But the man doesn't look like he is doing this out of love. His face is twisted in a way that Regina doesn't recognise, but will come to learn is hatred.

He looks scary, and mad. Much madder than Mother ever gets. He is looking at the little girl like he really wants to hurt her and he looks as though he means to, but she's just a little girl, not much younger than Regina. He stands over the little girl, hand raised like he's going to hit her again. He stands frozen over her for a few seconds, shoulders tense and spittle quivering on his lips, then all of a sudden he leaves. Regina hears a series of doors slam behind him.

Regina watches as the girl sits up slowly, gasping in pain, and she moves haltingly towards the mirror. It occurs to Regina that she can hear through the mirror, and she knows that whatever is happening is magic. As the girl comes closer, Regina can see the bruises on her wrists, a mottled patchwork of yellow and green and a deep, angry purple. They look like they hurt, yet the girl doesn't seem to notice them. It occurs to Regina that maybe she is used to them.

The girl comes towards the mirror, looking up as though to start assessing how bad her injuries are. It looks as though this is a routine, perfected in the way it is made to seem ordinary, as though the little blonde girl has had to do this many times. She reminds Regina of herself, and she hurts for the other girl.

Regina hears the gasp of surprise leave the girl as she sees Regina staring back at her. She supposes that she was expecting to see herself in a state, not a strange girl. The blonde girl blinks rapidly, as though not believing what she is seeing, and then pinches her arm, right over a vividly purple bruise and she curses foully even as she winces. The language makes Regina flush all over, warming her cool skin in the chilly room.

The girl, gaping at her in a disbelieving manner, seems to be taking her in. The room the girl is in is hugely different to Regina's own. Regina is royalty and so, even if Mother is always very hard on her, she never wants for anything. Her bedroom is befitting of her status, it is a symbol of her being heir to the throne, and it is a symbol of her being importance and wealth.

The girls room is tiny, and the paint on the walls is chipping and flaking. She takes the room in, but it seems empty. There's no bed, no wardrobe and certainly no toys of any kind. The girl is dressed strangely too, in materials that Regina has never seen before. She can see that they are fraying at the edges and ripped at the seams though. That should make her back away from the mirror, if Mother finds out that she had spent time in the presence of one below her status for anything other than charity she would be punished. Regina's sure it would be a worse punishment than a split lip. She shudders to think what it would entail. But she still doesn't back away, she finds herself transfixed.

The girl seems to be done staring, or rather gaping at her, and so she decides to remember her manners and introduce herself.

"Hello, I'm Regina. Who are you?" She sees the girl smile a little, wincing as it pulls at her split bottom lip.

"Hiya, I'm Emma!" And Regina is a little admiring that she can smile through the pain.

"Where are you?" She asks, because it seems like as good a place to start as any.

"I'm in my room, for now. I'm in New York, are you real? Why are you all bloody?"

"Where's New York? I've never heard of such a realm. Of course I'm real, what else would I be? My Mother saw it fit to punish me."

"What's a realm? I'm in America, the country. I dunno, but I wished for a friend. Where you are looks real funny and fancy, places like that don't exist here. My foster Dad likes to punish me too, I think it's the drink."

"A realm is a Kingdom. I've never heard of it. You wished for a friend? I suppose we are meant to be friends then."

"I've never had a real friend before, I move a lot. And other kids don't like me much. Are you a Princess? You look like a Princess."

"Why ever not? And yes, Emma, I am a Princess." She watches as Emma's eyes light up, a look of awe flashing across her face, a delighted and breathless laugh leaving her lips.

"Awesome."

She sits before the mirror, awkwardly in her fitted dress and full skirts, and her and Emma talk for longer than she's ever talked to another person before. And she laughs more than she has ever laughed before, loudly and fully, for once not thinking on the punishment she could receive for it. She sits on the marble floor, undisturbed for hours, until far later than bedtime and no one comes to check on the Princess. She sits and sometimes slouches, relaxed and so very happy, until she can't feel her legs because she has been sat on them for so long and her whole body is numb from the cold seeping into her from the tiled marble floor.

Emma sits in her tiny bedroom, legs crossed and back straight, and Regina watches her. Every time Emma smiles or laughs, Regina can feel the warmth in her chest, pleasant and rather wonderful. It makes her smile because she can't remember ever feeling this happy or free before.

They both sit before the mirrors in their rooms until their eyelids begin to droop, fluttering closed. They sit even then, heads nodding suddenly down to their chests and eyes flying back open. Neither wanting to sleep in case they realise that this was all a dream, neither wanting it to end, because dreams are wonderful but they don't last.

She watches through heavy eyelids that refuse to stay fully open as Emma gives in to tiredness, hours after they had started talking. She watches as she curls up into a tiny ball, head resting on her arms, knees drawn up to her stomach. She hears a quiet "goodnight, Regina" mumbled sleepily through the glass of the mirror as Emma's breathing evens out.

It isn't long before she follows suit, curling in on herself despite the heavy and cumbersome dress she wears. She sleeps before the mirror, not wanting to leave, not wanting to look away. She sleeps before the mirror despite the cold seeping from the hard marble floor into her bones, despite the fitted bodice of her dress (which Mother insisted she start to wear, even though she is not yet eight) digging into her, pinching the skin of her sides. She sleeps peacefully, for once not worrying about dirtying the intricate embroidery of her hand made dress on the immaculately clean floor, no longer feeling the smarting and stinging of her deeply cut upper lip.

She sleeps before the mirror, because deep in her heart she knows that she has finally found a friend. She has finally found the person whom can make her feel less alone, less lonely, whom can make her smile and laugh and for once not concern herself with the consequences of such actions. She sleeps before the mirror, as she is bound to do for many more nights to come, because she has found a friend and she can not bear to leave that, even if only to move mere metres away, even for a night.


	2. Chapter 2

Many years had passed since Emma's first meeting with Regina, and although much had changed for her, Regina had remained a constant in her life (the one and only constant she had ever had). Whenever she felt alone or small or unwanted or unimportant, all she had to do was turn to a mirror or a reflective surface and there Regina would be. It was not always possible for them to talk, but just seeing her, and knowing that she was okay was usually more than enough for Emma. The reassurance of such a thing, that Regina was doing well even when she herself was not, could fuel her for days on end.

Emma was caught in a whirlwind of unhappiness for the most part, a constant cycle of changing faces and homes and rooms and families. The social workers always told her the same thing though, that this was the family for her, they were just sure of it this time. She'd had her fair share of families, some worse than others, and they were just never the right fit. Some were cruel, some terrified her, some hurt her, and some just didn't care about her, but she could deal with it all. She could deal with the indifference that came with being a couple's meal ticket for the month. She could deal with all the pain and the loneliness and the anger. It was all fine. Because she had Regina as a constant, the only friend she had ever had or could ever want, and that was mor than enough. She was grateful for that, because Regina was amazing and Emma counted herself lucky for having her.

Still, Regina's end of the mirror had been oddly quiet recently, to the point that it made her anxious. In fact, in her entire month with the Montroses (thirty eight painstaking and endless days) Regina hadn't contacted her at all, not once. She was worried to say the least, Regina was the only person in the world she had to worry about after all. It was becoming increasingly difficult to cope. On the surface she knew that they had seemed quite pleasant, welcoming and kind. They had been all smiles and warmth and homely until her social worker had left. After that, it hadn't taken long for their true colours to shine through.

Emma had discovered rather quickly that Mrs. Montrose had a very severe drinking problem. Most nights the woman would drink herself into a blind stupor. Emma didn't really blame her, not when she had a husband like the one she did. She had also discovered that the way Mr. Montrose was looking at her wasn't just in a concerned fatherly way. Oh no, quiet the opposite. The way he looked at her made her skin crawl, and it made her want to shower to get rid of any traces of his eyes boring into her. She was forever thankful for the deadbolt on the inside of her door and the tree directly next to her window which allowed for a timely escape.

So she had decided that she had to get out, she couldn't stay, constantly worrying about how long it would take before Mr. Montrose tried to follow her up to her room again, or how long he would go without trying to shove his hand down her pants. Emma may be young, but she knew the ways of the world. A world which was cruel to abandoned children and orphans, the children that the whole world ignored and forgot about.

When a ver familiar voice sounded behind her, she was surprised to say the least. A worried and rather breathless "What on Earth are you doing?" had crossed the room. Emma froze with one of her shirts midway to the battered and ripped rucksack that was laying on her mattress. She feels her insides twist and knot with guilt, and it makes her feel so heavy that she can barely stand.

She turns towards the chipped mirror that is propped up against the unpainted wall in the corner. When she sees Regina her shirt drops from her hand, completely and utterly forgotten. For a moment everything pauses and her plans to run away are thrown to the side for now.

Regina stands before the mirror in her familiar chambers (chambers that feel more like home to Emma than anywhere she had ever stayed before) ethereal in her beauty. She wears a gown that seems to move in the flickering candlelight of Regina's world. She has always been regal beyond belief, a Princess through and through, but Emma can see that she's starting to become a Young Lady. She looks refined and Emma can't help thinking that she's found her own personal definition of beauty and even as Emma's heart jumps up into her throat she feels her stomach twist some more, knotting so tightly that she wouldn't be surprised if it was pretzel shaped.

Her voice catches in her throat and she knows from Regina's shy smile that she is gawping, openly and completely, her gangly arms hanging limply at her side. She must stare for a long while, longer than is appropriate, because finally Regina clears her throat and Emma snaps to attention. She can hear the snap of her jaw as it closes forcefully.

Emma gestures around her and when she speaks she can hear the bluntness in her tone "Packing." She watches as Regina frowns her disapproving frown. She waits for her to start to tell her off, in the good natured way that only Regina can manage, all friendly admonishment and concern (it's is one thing that brings Emma close to tears most of the time, because it means that there is some body who cares for her). She waits for her to start, but something in Emma's facial expression must tell her not to, because for once she doesn't say a word about it. Instead she diverts the course of the conversation. And as Emma listens to her speak, she's not sure whether or not she's grateful. Either way she can feels her stomach knotting more tightly still, in a way that would be worrying if Emma cared about her personal welfare at all.

Regina starts to speak and she's not quite gushing, Regina doesn't gush in the way the girls at school do, but she's almost there. She's just slightly more dignified about it. She talks about being duty bound and the honour that is being brought upon her family and an alliance being forged with a neighbouring Kingdom, the White Dynasty, whom have ruled the neighbouring lands around Regina's Kingdom for more than a thousand years. She talks about how it will strengthen trade, allow for a stronger military, a mix of cultures, border expansion and allow for even more plentiful and bountiful harvests.

She speaks about a Betrothal ball being held in her and the Kings' honour. She speaks about how people talk of his kindness, his goodness, his strength. She speaks about her hopes for the future and Emma can see her eyes shining with something akin to happiness and Emma can feel her stomach twisting still further, knotting itself so much that she almost doubles over with the pain of it. She is happy that Regina is happy, but Regina is so youthful and beautiful and good. She feels something hot and angry pulse through her system as Regina describes her king. Emma's felt it many times before, never at such a multitude, but she knows that she hates this man that she will never meet.

Regina talks and talks and talks and Emma hurts and hurts and hurts. It goes on for an unending period of time, but is probably only the better part of two hours. And she tries to be happy for Regina, because her friend is doing something good and she is doing something she wants. She is marrying a King and getting everything she has ever wanted, everything she has worked towards. She will be getting everything she has ever dreamed about and more by the sounds of it. And Emma is happy for her. She really is, it's not that.

And she's not jealous either because they're from two different worlds and Regina is royalty and she couldn't be further from that. In both worlds she would be a penniless orphan, and that is pretty much the lowest of the low. She doesn't want the life of duty and servitude and pleasing every one that Regina has. She doesn't want a life in which she is confined by doing what is best for her Kingdom, a life in which she has no freedom to do what she wants to do. Emma at least has a guarantee of being free to do as she pleases after she turns eighteen. It feels something like loss, and that's something that Emma has had to spend a lot of time coming to terms with over the course of her rather short life. It feels like a hundred punches to the gut, mixed with a whole bunch of emotions that don't seem to sit right, and it makes Emma physically hurt. She aches all over and she can feel the pain throbbing and ebbing and flowing as she listens to every world Regina utters, because no matter how much pain she is in she will always listen. Emma can't seem to put her finger exactly on what she is feeling, but she knows that she hates it. She wants it to stop.

She can feel everything building in her and Regina's still talking and she looks so happy, in a world of her own, so very removed from Emma's that although she can see Regina because she's right in front of her, it feels like she's already gone. And Emma wants to run away from everything happening inside of her at the moment, in her chest and her head and her stomach. She wants to run and run and run until she has escaped it all. She wants to run and never have to stop because she's okay with losing most things but Regina is the one constant in her life, the one thing she is not equipped to deal with losing. Regina is the one person on this planet that she will never be able to cope with losing.

Regina hasn't seemed to notice Emma's turmoil, even though Emma is sure that it is written all over her face. Normally, she's a closed book, and nobody can get a reading off of her, Regina is the only exception to this rule. In fact, instead of noticing, she has started on about how her Mother has started to pick out designs for her wedding. She talks about how her King has a daughter the same age as her, and how she's sure that it will all turn out wonderfully. And Emma can't help but notice how fucked up that sounds, it sounds an awful lot like Mr. Montrose. And she knows that things work differently in Regina's world, she knows that, but even through the turmoil she is in caused by loss it makes her feel sick to her knotted stomach.

And Emma tries to stop Regina, because the thought of this king is making her dizzy with anxiety. Her head is spinning sickeningly but still Regina doesn't seem to notice. Emma can see that her face has gone white and that she's swaying on her feet, but still she needs to do something. She tries to tell her about Mr. Montrose and the situation that Emma is in right now and how she wants Regina to be happy, but she also wants her to be safe and comfortable and secure. And Regina doesn't seem to understand, what Emma is saying and that she just cares about Regina getting hurt so damn much, because it doesn't take long for it to devolve into a screaming match. Emma's sure that she is the only person in any Realm whom can make the ever cool Regina lose her composure.

Regina shouts that Emma is jealous of her, jealous of her getting the perfect ending, because she just doesn't understand Emma's world. She doesn't understand the sick feeling that Emma can't seem to curb, She shouts at Emma and she makes sure to strike her where it hurts. She targets every one of Emma's insecurities, barbed words that sting more than they should (Emma should have her guard up, she should have thicker skin). And Emma doesn't shout back much, not at first. But Regina knows how to hurt her, she knows how to make it all very personal, beyond personal. She is the only person in existence with the power to hurt Emma this much, to make her feel like less than nothing, and Emma never knew that someone could use that power in such a way.

It takes Regina shouting something particularly hurtful (a comment about their odd friendship) for Emma to snap, because their friendship is the one thing that keeps Emma going on the worst of days and it is therefore scared. And then the comment is out, having slipped past Regina's lips. She seems to realise what she has said, and she opens her mouth to say something else. What it is, Emma doesn't wait to find out. With her chest heaving and eyes stinging with the tears that are brimming there, she slams her fist against the mirror so hard that it cracks beneath the force, an ugly scar across its dirty surface. She hits the mirror again and again, until she can no longer see Regina in the fragments, until spiderwebs of glass are all that are left.

She doesn't finish packing that night, but rather lies on her bed feeling very alone and small, pain coursing through her, chest heavy and painful to the point that it is difficult for her to breath. The next day, she tells herself to pull it together. She packs her battered and ripped rucksack full of everything she owns in the world, all of her worldly possessions, and when she's done it is neither full nor heavy, and she leaves through the window, scrambling down the tree to the street. She thinks that she should feel relief at finally leaving, but she feels as though she is not carrying Regina with her for the first time in oh so many years, and the thought of that hurts worse than anything she's ever felt, worse than any physical blow she has ever received. It makes her want Regina with her more than ever, but she will not now down before the Princess and apologise, not as she has before for more minor skirmishes. She can't make herself, not after everything from the night before. As she walks through the rough part of town, away from the flat she was supposed to call home, she feels more alone than she has six she was being beaten at six years old.

Emma is thirteen, almost fourteen, when her and Regina fight properly for the first time. It is painful and confusing and leaves Emma hurt more than any physical injury inflicted upon her ever has. And when all is said and done, the silence that fills the gap between them lasts for an eternity (it is the longest year of Emma's life).


	3. Chapter 3

After her and Emma fought properly for the first time, it had taken Regina almost a year to work up the courage to apologise. From the moment the words had left her lips, burning and aimed to cut Emma as deeply as possible, she had known that they were too much, that she had finally pushed too hard, too far beyond the invisible boundaries of what Emma would take sitting down. At the time she had opened her mouth, not to apologise because Regina didn't apologise to any one, but to soften the blow, to lessen the sting.

There had been a moment before Emma had moved, in which Regina had watched a shadow pass over her face, rippling and disappearing, in which Regina had stood stunned. Every inch of her had smarted with guilt, which had sat lodged hot and heavy in her gut. At the time she had thought that Emma was jealous of her and the ultimate happiness she was sure to possess. She had felt such utter betrayal and anger at Emma's unhappiness for her. A friend should be happy for her, should revel with her in her utmost fortune, for the fortune of her people. And so something in her had snapped.

Even then though something had sat in her uneasily. Something she hadn't been able to put a finger on, something she had not been able to place or name. Something that had shone through her initial happiness, that had pierced through the happy haze of a fifteen year old girl dreaming about the picturesque future she was just sure she would have. Something she had seen painted on Emma's face, because Emma knew more about the world and its workings than Regina did. Something that had infuriated her because she could read Emma like a book, so how dare she spoil Regina's moment of triumph.

She had only apologised to Emma a little over two months previously, during a tour of the major towns of both her Kingdom and the White Kingdom. A tour dedicated to the official pronouncement of her engagement and impending marriage. During which tour she had turned sixteen, she had become a lady, and could therefore be presented at court. About halfway through the tour, after an incident with her soon to be husband, she had snapped and finally mustered up the courage and thrown away her stubbornness to apologise to Emma.

She had found Emma in a state worse than any she had ever know on her to be in. Her skin was sallow, and she was thinner than Regina had ever seen her. Both her eyes had been black, Emma called them shiners, and her lip was split in more than one place. Regina had found her sobbing on what seemed to be a bathroom floor and when Regina had uttered her name, Emma's face had been a mask of disbelief and hurt. Regina had never wanted to go to her more, to hold her and soothe her and promise her that she would protect her, never allow another person to harm her again.

Hatred, hot and acidic, had welled in her as she looked upon Emma, all for the person whom had broken the beautiful girl before her. Regina had felt heart ache for the first time in her life at the sight of Emma and even though she had not been close to her, she had felt it. She had sunk to her knees before the mirror, hand resting on it, voicing her apology over and over in the softest of tones. So gentle and tender that she wasn't aware she was capable of such a thing.

To say that hers and Emma's relationship had complicated somewhat as they grew and matured would be an understatement of the most extreme version. All she knew was that there was something inexpressible there, something she was yet unable to understand, to comprehend. Some day, she knew that whatever they felt would have to be addressed but until that day arrived, Regina had to focus on duty and doing what was right and best for the people who would one day be hers to command.

Hers and Emma's friendship was tenuous and slightly strained, full of all the things that neither could yet name. Full of things best left unsaid or best left ignored or untouched. The year of silence still sat between them, a chasm to be slowly bridged and filled, the cracks cemented and the gaps erased. Regina knew that some day their relationship would complicate further than it already have and she was both eager for that day and forever dreading its arrival.

She knew that one day, one day not so far off, if the way her heart pounded at the mere thought of the other girl, she would yearn for Emma. For her touch and her laughter and her constant presence. For her soul and her love and her hand in marriage. If she was not mistaken then that would typically one day be their end destination. The only problem in the present day being the difference in their worlds. Even that paled in comparison to the problem of the emotional distance that Emma sometimes forced between them.

Still, one day perhaps. Until that day, Regina would have to content herself with doing her duty and what was best for her Kingdom. She knew now that she could not of been more wrong about her soon to be husband if she had tried. Today was her wedding day, and she had never dreaded a moment more than this one.

Soon, she would have a husband and be his to do with as he pleased. She would have to play the dutiful wife, she would have to do as she was told and not speak unless spoken to. She would have to be a companion to his insufferably simpering daughter who thought it was simply splendid that her father was to be marrying a girl the same age as her. She knew that she had only been chosen for her beauty, Mother had explained that that was how men worked. She was youthful and beautiful and full of vitality and vigour. Perfect marriage material for a man without any sires or any strong male heirs to inherit their thrones.

Thinking about the marriage ceremony that was to happen in no more than four hours made her simultaneously want to throw up and find a horse and ride as far away as she possibly could. She would do nether of those things of course. The first was both so undignified and unladylike that she knew Mother would punish her for it if she wasn't careful. The second would lead to the same result, just in a far more severe manner.

Her blood ice in her veins, she found herself stood before the mirror in her chambers, hands shaking and breath coming in ragged gasps, far too shaky and fast to be considered even remotely healthy. She needed to see Emma, to talk to her. To draw comfort from her presence, familiar and soothing. She needed to see her flowing blonde curls and emerald green eyes and those dimpled cheeks that made her feel calm. She needs Emma to calm her down so that she can face the ordeal to come, one she would rather not have to ever face, with the dignity and poise required of her due to her status.

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, Regina takes a moment to focus on Emma. She thinks about the planes of her face and tries not to think about how she could possibly excuse having all of this memorised. It makes her she far beyond glad that it is not possible for Mother to use her magic to read minds, the thought of such a thing makes her shudder in horror. She thinks about her, even knowing that if she opens her eyes she will be able to see her before her. She needs to talk to Emma about the anxiety she is feeling, because she knows that Emma will understand. Emma always understands.

Regina hears laughter, the most beautiful breathless laughter, from the other side of the mirror and it makes her smile to think that Emma is happy for once. As soon as her eyes open, she regrets it. For Emma is happy, Regina can see that from the moment she sets eyes on her, but for once it had nothing to do with her.

Emma is sat on her bed, because for once she has a real bed (she says that she finally got a decent foster home) and there is another girl say with her. A very pretty girl, about the same age as Regina. All dark hair and deep brown eyes and olive coloured skin. They are sat very closely together, so close in fact that they are touching. So close together that in Regina's world such a thing is scandalous. The girls hand is on Emma's knee and Emma is leaning on the girl, smile plastered on her face and eyes shining in happiness.

It makes Regina want to scream at the girl to get away, and she has to remind herself that she has no right to do such a thing, and that she probably shouldn't want to do such a thing. Her heart squeezes sickeningly in her chest and it sits in her throat in such a way that swallowing is made excruciating. The girl leans towards Emma and Regina tells herself to look away, to stop at hang, to stop torturing herself so badly.

She is already due to marry a man older than her father in less than four hours herself, and her wedding day will surely be torturous enough for a lifetime. Her heart and body and soul are all screaming for Emma to lean away, to come to her, but no sound escapes her as she watches. There is something contented about the way Emma relaxes as the girl moves closer to her, and although it sickens Regina to watch, she can't look away.

And so she watches as the girl kisses Emma softly, leaning into her personal space, closing all the distance between them. She watches Emma respond with enthusiasm and it makes her heart ache and it isn't until much much later that she realises that it was because she wishes it had been her. She watches and she watches and she watches, for far longer than she probably should. For so long that it hurts her beyond belief, but she just can't seem to tear herself away.

She does finally tear herself away, because Emma is enjoying herself a lot and Regina can feel something distinctly like jealousy building inside of her and it burns and burns, hot and heavy. She knows she should stop and so she finally does, trying to clear her mind of Emma so that the image in her bedroom mirror will fade away. And she succeeds partially, or at least, the image fades away.

Emma is still on her mind when she turns away from the mirror, pacing back and forth. And it's strange because if Regina had stayed planted in her previous position a second longer, she would have seen something to calm the aching inside of her, something to calm the raging jealousy ebbing through her system. She would have heard, quite plainly, the sound of her name breathed from Emma's lips between kisses.

But Regina didn't hear. And so it is with an aching heart and an apprehensive manner that, four hours later, Regina finds herself standing in front of a Royal Procession, mere minutes away from becoming Queen of the strongest alliance formed in the history of the Kingdoms. She stands before her soon to be husband and finds her mind focused on Emma and the jealousy that seems to have taken up a home inside of her and she thinks about how differently this day would go if it was Emma before her instead of the man she can quite clearly see. Then she forces herself to stop thinking altogether because Emma is not here and she never will be because that is not her reality.


	4. Chapter 4

It is shortly after Emma's seventeenth birthday, a day which she did not celebrate, when she decides that there is nothing for her to do but run away. She had once again found herself in a bad situation, but as time had progressed it had steadily worsened. Emma would chance it to say that this was the worst placement her social workers had ever found for her. Not that she blamed them. She was grateful to them, for working so hard for happiness on her behalf.

Still, they had a bunch of kids to look after. A whole bunch of unwanted, growing kids. So of course they had always failed to notice the bruises on Emma's arms during their monthly and then weekly checks (weekly because she quickly became a running hazard, and that was the one thing they could suss out). They had failed to notice the hunger on her face, or the subconscious flinch in her movements and the sudden lack of eye contact.

This time, they had practically begged her to stay put. It's only another nine months they had said. It'll go in the blink of an eye. This family really seem as though they're a good fit for you, they specialise in flighty teens. And for a while everything had gone fine. Everything had been going perfectly swimmingly in fact. Emma had been with a family that she'd actually kinda liked, and they hadn't tried to pretend to be something that they weren't.

Emma had been so damned careful with this family. She'd kept the whole gay thing on a low, she hadn't brought any girls back with her, not even her friends for studying. She hadn't spoken to Regina as often as she would have liked. Mainly because talking to a mirror, an inanimate object, was deemed highly strange in this world. But there were other reasons as well. Recently, things between the pair of them had been strained and she had to admit that she was noticing it more and more.

There was always something clipped in Regina's tone, and something defeated in the graceful slope of her shoulders. Emma was convinced it was her husband, but Regina insisted that she was fine. Emma could see that wasn't the case, and it made her wish more than ever that she was with Regina, even through the awkwardness that seemed to pervade their friendship. Emma didn't like it, but there seemed to be nothing she could do about it. She could joke and smile and make Regina laugh, in some moments her eyes would spark in such a way that it made Emma think of the somehow simultaneous giggly and serious girl she had met eleven years previously, but the shadows that cobwebbed their friendship were still there. Just waiting to grow back over again. Still, Regina was the only person on the planet that Emma actively found herself caring about. There had never been another person whom could compare.

That's not to say that Emma hadn't tried. She'd dated countless girls, and even a guy. A guy had been the most recent. She'd been so damned stupid, so bloody foolish. Her foster family had asked her about guys at her school, and she'd said that there were a few pretty cool ones. Then they'd asked her about boyfriends and she'd lost her cool and said she had one. Idiot. So she'd found a guy, his name was Neal, and he had been pretty great, for a while. He'd said he loved her, and so she'd slept with him and he'd stayed around for a while. Her foster family had loved him, even if she hadn't.

Then she'd missed a period, or maybe two, she was in her senior year and she was stressed to hell so they'd always been pretty unreliable. So she'd done a test or three and then she'd creed because she'd found herself pregnant and she couldn't get rid of it. Then she'd told Neal and he'd acted cool with it, he'd made a tonne of promises that she hadn't believed, and then he'd made a run for it the next morning. Leaving her carrying his child, with no money and a foster family to explain her weight gain to.

And still she'd been fine, everything had been okay. Until, at least, her foster father had walked in on her rebounding with the pretty teen from down the hall, all dark hair and even darker eyes. She'd figured that she had to get some action she could enjoy in before she got huge and disgusting, right? Plus the girl had been just her type, all smirks and hair and a voice that seemed to draw a girl in. The worst part of what followed though, was that Regina wasn't there to help her through it. He'd hit her, of course he had, she'd always had a feeling that he was a gay hater. Not that he would of ever admitted it. Somehow she'd managed to mess up the whole home for her baby and them providing for her until she was eighteen. So go figure, she was so stupid. All because she just couldn't manage to keep her hands to herself for another few months.

So now Emma found herself with twenty weeks worth of pregnancy under her belt, locked in a public bathroom in the middle of the night with no where to go, no money and a Regina whom she was terrified to tell. Not to mention the fact that the entirety of everything she owned was shoved unceremoniously into her backpack. All she could think about was how, when her baby made its appearance, they were going to take it from her.

She wanted it to have its best chance, but it was hers. She'd never had much to live in her life, but she loved this baby already. And the bun was barely cooking yet. So she was in a public toilet, because she needed to talk to Regina. She needed Regina now, more than she ever had before.

She found herself leaning against the counter top, knuckles turning white with her grip. Her eyes screwed shut, she thought as hard as she could about every aspect of Regina, every little thing about her. She kept her eyes closed for a long moment, until she heard an intake of breath and the rustle of rich fabrics (Regina's clothes had always been of the best quality but man, now that she was a Queen it was just about ridiculous) and her name uttered softly and the sound of knees hitting the ground before a mirror.

Her eyes open and meet Regina's ones, warm and familiar and it feels more comforting than Emma should let it. It feels like the home that Emma has never had, not that she'll ever admit it. She can see the concern and endless warmth etched into Regina's eyes and it terrifies Emma because she knows that it is all for her, boundless though it is. Her eyes meet Regina's through the glass and suddenly tears that she didn't realise had been gathering are slipping down her face.

In the wan light, she can vaguely see her reflection. She looks tired and grimy and absolutely terrified. She looks frayed around the edges and more worn than a seventeen year old should, and yet there is something in the way she looks that is hopeful as well.

When the tears start to flow, Regina looks startled and more worried than Emma has ever seen her. She watches as her arm raises itself of its own accord and comes to rest on the mirror, Palm pressed so hard against the surface that it is bleached white. Emma notes that even Regina's hands look regal, smooth and unworn by day to day activities. It is the way she had always imagined a royals' hands to look. It makes her consider the vast differences between them, and it feels like there is a chasm between them, and Emma thinks that it will never be breached. And such a thought makes her cry harder, until the tears are a constant stream and her nose is running and sobs are shaking her shoulders. And she thinks about how much she wants Regina to hold her and tell her everything will be fine.

She thinks she wishes she was in Regina's place, even if it meant duty and a husband she didn't want. Because at least then, no one would try to take her baby. Regina is practically her age and married and if she were to get pregnant (God forbid because the idea makes Emma's stomach twist) no one would bat an eyelid. Then she thinks that she wishes she were with Regina, not actually her or in her place, because that would be the most wonderful life she could ever imagine. That would actually make her happy.

Regina watches her cry with the tenderest eyes Emma has ever had directed at her, even as her brow furrows and palm of her hand stays bloodless in its place against the mirror. She bites her lip as though suffering from an internal debate, as though she desperately wants to comfort Emma but isn't sure how. In the end, she settles for asking Emma what is wrong, in the gentlest of tones.

Emma takes some deep breathes, calms down and then almost starts all over again at the thought of what this next conversation could do. She starts with Neal and how she was with him to make people around her happy. She tells Regina about how it worked, that everyone loved him, except her. She tells her that he had said that he loved her (Regina's face pinches in a way that makes Emma's heart hurt in a way she will not let herself actively think about) and how she had slept with him. She finds that this requires a whole explanation from Emma, and they finally settle on the word consummation (Emma thinks something like jealousy flits across Regina's face at this point).

She gets on to the more difficult part of the tale, she tells Regina about the girl and being discovered and how they had thrown her out. And then Emma finds herself at the difficult part. Her throat dries and she has to swallow several times. Her hand reaches out across the counter top to press against the glass of the grimy mirror, right over the top of Regina's. It's as close to touching as they will ever get.

She clears her throat and finds that tears are flowing freely down her face again. And she tells Regina about how in this world, when a woman wishes to find out if she is with child or not, they do a pregnancy test. She tells Regina about how she did three, just to be sure and how they came back with a positive result. She tells Regina that she is expecting a baby, Neal's baby, and how she will have to raise it alone, with no one to help her.

Through it all, she watches as Regina accepts all of this information in the utmost silence. To the point where her lack of a reaction worries Emma. She finishes and it stays quiet so long that she worries Regina will never reply. Finally, after the longest moments of Emma's life, she watches as Regina's head moves. She watches as her head inclines to one side, and the way she looks at Emma sends chills down her spine. No one has ever looked at her in such a way before.

Regina's eyes drift down to her stomach, over her slightly protruding belly, before they meet Emma's hopeful ones again. Her hand slides a good half a foot down the mirror almost as though she wishes to caress Emma's stomach, to show her that she is not alone. The look on her face has not once wavered, and when she speaks, the conviction in her tone is so intense that it makes Emma feel warm.

"Emma you are not alone. You will never again be alone, I will always be here."


	5. Chapter 5

Regina found her breath coming in short and sharp gasps as she gazed at her hands. Stained red and trembling violently, she watched them as she made a valiant effort to steady them, to control her breathing. She could hear the panic in the way she was breathing, if any one were to find her here, like this, they would know. The room was covered in gore, the marble floor sticky with blood as it had started to congeal.

Oh gods, what had she done? The body of her husband lay in a heap on the ground at the foot of their shared chambers. The room to which they retreated when he wished to lay with her. She normally went out of duty, out of obedience, as was expected of her. Over dinner he had looked at her in such a way that she had known what was coming. It was the one thing in their marriage, other than spending time with him in any way alone, that she had come to dread.

She had known what was to come, and she had steeled herself for it. She had prepared herself to do her duty, as a good wife and Queen always should. In the way that she had always been taught was expected of her. So after dinner, at which she had drank more than she probably should have, they had retreated to their ceremonial chambers, the ones in which their bedding had taken place. It was a room she hated more than any other in the palace that had become her prison over the last three years. Every time she was in here, all she could think of was her Wedding night. That, in turn, always made her think of Emma.

Leopold had looked at her, and he had swayed on his feet. The only reason he ever touched her, his youthful, beautiful bride, was in the name of creating a male heir. Or so he told himself. He tried to call it duty, but Regina had always known better. He looked at her with hunger in his eyes, this man whom was older than her father, and she knew that he desired her. She knew that it shamed him to think about.

So he drank himself into a stupor, and then would fumble about his business and his pleasure with his wife. His wife, whom to look at made him think of his beautiful Snow. Normally, Regina would stay sober and bear his weight pressing down on top of her. She would simply occupy her thoughts with mundane matters to be seen to. She tried her best to ignore him, because he was always rather quick about his business. She had to actively avoid thinking of Emma, or how she wished that it was her in her husband's place, because thinking of such things did her no good.

She knew as soon as started that she'd made a mistake in drinking. She'd found it hard, so incredibly hard to focus on anything. Until Emma had popped into her mind, and then she found herself thinking of no one else. She couldn't focus on what was happening, but she could feel her mind buzzing. All it had taken was one slip of her tongue, and she had sent everything crashing down around her.

Her name had slipped from between her lips in a sigh, and Leopoldo paused, having heard. He stilled above her and had looked at her, and something behind his eyes had clicked. She had watched as the rage that she had always known to be bubbling below his skin surfaced. He had slipped from upon her, and before she could react, he had grabbed her by her scalp. After that everything seemed to blur together, but she could still feel the burn of her rage simmering through her veins. Even as the panic built within her.

No body could ever know what had happened here, what was she supposed to do? She could still see the wisps of purple smoke curling in the very corners of the room, remnants of the fury she couldn't remember unleashing. What was she supposed to do now? Oh gods, oh gods. She had killed her husband. And she couldn't remember doing it. She had killed her husband, because he had laid hands upon her. And now she would have a coup on her hands, one full of blood if tales of the past were anything to go by.

She could feel the panic building inside her like a crescendo, sending blood drumming through her ears and setting her lungs aflame from lack of air. She felt it build and build within her, reaching such heights that it seemed like an obstacle she couldn't deal with alone. Such dizzying heights that she feared the inevitable fall from the top. She found herself staring around the room, her brain working in over time, trying to think. Think of a way to explain the gruesome scene before her away, think of away to make this all stop. She couldn't think of anything but her still growing panic, sending her in a spiral, room dancing before her eyes. She needed to calm down, to breathe, to think logically of what her next move could possibly be.

She found herself thinking of Snow and even through her panic she could feel her stomach sink. She loved the other girl as a sister, and now she had done the unthinkable to her. How could she tell her such a thing? How could she possibly confess to such an awful crime?

If she was breathing at all by this point, she couldn't tell. Her vision became hazy at the edges, and even as she fought to gulp down air, she knew it was a losing battle. She needed to try and get to her chambers, her private chambers, her home. She needed to get to the mirror, and see Emma and try to make sense of this whole horrible mess. A mess that she had gotten herself into. She finds herself encompassed in purple smoke, and she thinks she must be hallucinating, before her vision clears and she finds herself before her mirror.

She can distinctly smell apples, and there is something comforting about it, but Regina isn't quite sure why. As soon as her eyes find the mirror, as soon as she sees Emma sitting on the bed in her newly acquired apartment (a word Regina had learnt and finds most interesting) rocking her newly born baby boy, she feels the panic begin to abate. She can see clearly again, her sight is no longer fuzzy at the edges.

Despite the feeling of helplessness that surrounds her, she can think again. It's almost as though Emma and her familiar presence have acted as a soothing kind of trigger. Even through not being able to breath, she can feel a heavy weight lifting from her shoulders, allowing her to stand straight with more ease. Tonight she had done a terrible, awful thing. But she was finally free again, after being under the controlling thumb of her husband for more that three years.

She stands and watches Emma for a full minute as she gets her breathing back under control. Finally, when she thinks she is capable of speech. And once she's over the breath taking sight of Emma rocking her babe back and forth in a soothing manner (Emma is a wonderful Mother and Regina wishes all over again that they were together in one world instead of being separated by a plane of glass) she clears her throat quietly and breathes out Emma's name. So softly that if Emma wasn't so attuned to her then she wouldn't hear it, but Regina isn't willing to risk waking the tiny bundle in Emma's arms. Even so she can hear the longing in her voice, her wish for Emma and her tiny family so strong that it makes her ache.

Emma looks up, her eyes so soft and warm and happy that Regina feels warmth flare up in her chest. She sees the remaining panic on Regina's face and she breathes out slowly. She stands and places the baby in a crib in the corner and she comes to sit on the edge of her bed, facing the mirror, knees almost pressed to the surface in the confining space.

She looks at Regina in such a way that Regina seems to forget how to breathe for the second time that night, but for entirely more pleasant reasons this time. For the first time, Regina can see something behind Emma's eyes and although it is something she's sure only she recognises, seeing it there gives her strength she didn't know she possessed.

Emma encourages her to speak without even needing words. Her eyes gently probe as though saying 'What happened?" And she nods at Regina, telling her that she is more than ready to listen. And so Regina tells her the story, the whole of it, but she skims over the more sordid details, knowing that neither of them are ready to openly acknowledge such things. She watches Emma's face as she tells the story, Emma's wonderfully emotive face. She watches a range of emotions play over her features, waiting for the disgust to fix itself in place. She finds that it never does. In fact, Emma's face grows more and more understanding as minute by minute passes by. Occasionally anger etches it's way across her features but instinctually Regina knows that it is not aimed at her. When she finishes her tale, much more than an hour later, Emma's gaze finally drifts away from her face to Regina's unblemished and usually unmarked hands, now stained and sticky with her dead husband's blood.

Regina can feel the calm wash over her when Emma's eyes meet hers again through the pane of glass. For a moment it as though everything else around her melts away, her world narrow until all that is left is Emma and her baby. The baby that with every passing moment Regina wishes was her baby too, was their baby. Her eyes never leave Emma, even as she thinks over what she is to do.

Emma's hand presses against the mirror and she finds herself copying the action, and her hand presses so hard against the mirror that she is almost sure that given time she could push through to Emma's world and be with her. She thinks that she could happily leave her world behind, she would willingly leave behind all she has ever known for Emma. She wouldn't even pause to look back. Maybe one day.

They both stand before their respective mirrors for what seems like hours, neither moving. Barely even blinking. Regina can feel her mind working as she looks into Emma's eyes. Something about them ground her and keep her from panicking in her perilous situation and before she knows it, she has formulated a plan.

She will stage a fake break in to the royal chambers, a hostage situation gone wrong. Regina knows that she should feel awful about the prospect of lying to her subjects, but then again she supposes that none of them have been confined in her marriage as she has. None of them have had to have their innocence stolen by a man three times their age. None of them had to suffer through duty and obedience and being a prisoner in the castle she had once called home. She would broker a new alliance with Snow, strengthen their relationship through trade and friendship. She would grieve with her, and console her in her time of need. Lying to her would be hard, but a Queen had to be capable of these things.

She would rule her Kingdom by herself, and she found herself telling Emma as much. The art about her not being able to face taking another spouse unless it was Emma went unsaid, as she found so many things having to go for now.

She tells Emma of her plan, and she notices the baby stirring in his crib in the corner of the tiny room. She hears Emma mutter something about Henry being a fusspot and she freezes, even as a smile slowly takes over her features. Emma looks at her sheepishly and explains that she had registered him as Henry Swan. His name is a part of both of them, after Emma and Regina's father and Regina doesn't know how to thank her.

She stands and it hits her that maybe, in a way, she will get to be another mother to baby Henry. Granted not in the way she longs for, the way she aches for. But she will get to be a part of him, and this is Emma's way of showing her that she wants Regina to share in Henry's childhood. Emma's not a great one for words, but she excels at the little things that mean more than she can express.

Regina finds herself wishing, long after leaving the mirror for the night, during the first stages of her plan, that she could step through the mirror. Sadly, murderesses do not get wishes, and Emma's wish, with the innocence of childhood strengthening it, brought them together and forged their unbreakable bond in the first place. Still, what they have (moments stolen of an evening through the mirror) is more than enough. It will always be enough because Regina has learnt over the years that Emma, in her constant and unwavering way, always has been.


	6. Chapter 6

Emma sighed to herself as she entered her tiny bedroom. It was still early in the night, and she had so much cleaning to do around the flat, who knew that three year olds made so much mess? But she was so tired. How she was still on her feet she had no idea. She put most of it down to the fact that she was now the mother of an energetic three year old boy, and that meant that she knew how to function on the smallest amount of sleep possible.

Henry was her entire world, there was no doubt in her mind about it. It surprised her sometimes, just how much she loved him. It surprised her still more that he loved her so very much in return. She'd never been able to love openly before, to love in the way that other people did. When she had been pregnant, her greatest fear, her deepest fear, had been that she wouldn't be able to love him as much as he deserved. That she wouldn't be able to show him that she loved him more than she had ever loved another person.

As soon as she'd looked at him, as soon as she'd heard his first tiny cry, she had known. She had known that she would love him until her last day, more than she would ever love another person. She'd only ever cared about two people in her entire life. Regina and Henry. She would do anything for either of them.

That's not to say that the past few years had been easy for her, quite the opposite in fact. She'd had to fight to keep her baby, she had to fight to stop the authorities from taking him away. She had fought so hard that in the first few weeks she'd taken to not sleeping. She had forced herself to lay awake, the baby in her arms, so that no body could come and take him from her while she slept. She'd heard stories of them doing that. Even after that she had to prove that she could look after him. So she'd gotten a job and worked hard. She'd found them a place to live and earned enough to feed and clothe and house her baby boy. She'd earned enough to keep him safe and healthy and happy. She'd even gone back to school.

For once she could quite proudly say that she hadn't had to face the world alone. For every single step of the way, Regina had been there for her and Henry. Not once had she questioned Emma's ability to be a mother, all she had done was supported her and cared about her and Henry. She had been there as emotional support when Henry just wouldn't sleep. She had been there to watch Henry grow. She'd witnessed the first time he'd rolled over and his first word. She had been there, a constant that Emma knew that she would always be able to rely on.

A lot of the time she was sure she could see something more in Regina's eyes, something she refused to name, something which corresponded with the warm feeling that would flare to life in her chest whenever she though about Regina.

They couldn't speak as often as they had as children, mainly because as children they had talked every day. Now however, they both had their own lives and responsibilities to deal with. She had her job and Henry and Regina her Kingdom. Sometimes Emma missed the days in which they had been able to laugh and talk about nonsense and play games. She missed the careless conversations and the childish innocence neither of them had possessed for very long.

Still, Emma wouldn't change her life all that much. She had a home and a job (quite a good job, considering where she'd started) and she had Henry and Regina. What more could she possibly want from life? All that was missing was someone to share her life with. From the longing in her chest when she looked at Regina, she knew that she was fooling no one, not even herself. She had already found that someone. She sometimes wished that there was no pane of glass between them, because she wanted to discover what the look lurking in her only friends' eyes was. But that was dangerous ground, and a very dangerous way to think.

She decided to say fuck it for once, and to leave the house work for another day. As every minute of indecisiveness ticked by, it got steadily closer to midnight. With a wake up call coming at no later than six (the joys of having a three year old child) and an eight hour shift to complete at the local bakery, she knew she needed to sleep more than she needed to do housework. The chores could wait for another day, the world wouldn't end if she failed to complete them for an extra day.

She's halfway through getting changed for bed, distracted by the schedule for the coming day, tank top just about pulled over her head, when she hears a familiar sound from behind her. Regina had cleared her throat from the other side of the mirror. Emma turns towards the mirror almost absentmindedly, not really considering her state of partial undress, and finds Regina staring at her in a way that she has never really looked at her before.

The way she looks at Emma makes her mouth dry and her heart race in anticipation (which is ridiculous considering they're more than a world apart). There is a look in Regina's eyes that Emma can only describe to as hungry, and it makes Emma's breathing pattern fuck up spectacularly. She can feel her breath hitching in her throat, catching and sticking there. She can feel her lungs starting to burn from the lack of oxygen but she can't really say that she cares that she's forgotten how to breath. Not if Regina's going to keep looking at her like that.

Finally, after what has to be the longest minute of Emma's entire existence (and that's with her including the forty hours of excruciating and gruelling labour she suffered through when having Henry) she snaps to. With a deep breath, she both composes herself and pulls her shirt down fully. It takes a moment for the look to fade from Regina's eyes, but when it does it is replaced by something profoundly more meaningful.

Regina looks at her with eyes so tender and gentle that Emma's heart starts to race again, for an entirely different reason this time. Emma finds her mind racing with her heart, working much harder than it normally has to, and she feels something in her click into place as she gazes back at Regina, a puzzle finally fitting together properly in her mind. The longing for Regina seems to expand within her until it consumes the whole of her being. More than anything else in that moment, she wishes that they could be together. She wishes it more than she ever has before, with every fibre of her being.

Logically, she knows that they can't. Wishes only happen once in a life time and hers brought Regina to her in the first place. She knows that in all likelihood they will never be together as she aches for them to be. A lifetime together through the mirror is more than enough, really it is. But she can't help aching for a future with Regina fully in it in a way she has never ached for anything before.

Normally, Emma would never even consider talking about the way she feels about such things. Normally, she would bite her tongue and abstain and never mention it. But for once she doesn't do that. She finds herself blurting out her wish for them to be together and the startled look on Regina's face worries her for a mere second. That is until a grin breaks out across Regina's beautiful face. Emma can see the emotions swirling around within her eyes again, restless and never receding.

She grins at Emma and there is such girlish joy about her face that it makes Emma's heart ache with a happiness she thought that she would never feel. As a child Emma had always believed that she would live a life so very thoroughly unhappy, because that was all she had ever known, with the only bright spots being moments with Regina. So as the happiness bubbles up with Emma, she finds herself with the inexplicable need to laugh, and so she does. It's short and jubilant sounding. A way of revelling new found feeling that she never wants to end.

She wishes that she could transcend realms and live a life with Regina. A long and full and happy life. If she could transcend realms so that her and Henry could be with this wonderful woman, this amazing friend, she would do it without a moments hesitation. Emma knows that this might have been building for years, in fact it probably has been, but in that moment the culmination of everything buzzing around inside her makes her feel unstoppable. In that moment, she feels as though she could do anything.

She finds a word flying around inside her head, whipping around in a way that has become familiar to her over the past few years. Before Henry, the word had never been needed, not where Emma had been concerned. Then suddenly it had become important. Family. It was something she had never had as a child, something that she had never even been offered. It was something that she had always wanted but had always told herself that she hadn't needed. She had found her family in the beautiful little boy sleeping only a room away. Now the possibility of expanding that family to formally include Regina strikes her, and she finds herself wanting to embrace it as soon as it crosses her mind.

She still refuses to stick a label on what it is she finally admits to feeling, at least out loud. Even after all these years, it is a word she has trouble saying. After having no one to say it to for most of her life, finding herself with two people whom she wants to say it to feels rather overwhelming. Still, she knows that it is there. She knows what the ever expanding warmth in her chest means, she understands what the fluttering of her heart means. She understands what it is from the way she suddenly can't seem to stop smiling. She knows that it is love. And it makes her want to break through the mirror, her and Henry, and leave behind the life they have built for themselves in their tiny New York apartment, just to be with the woman she knows loves both of them.

Still, she knows that she's not quite ready for that, not yet. After all, these things take time and this isn't something she wants to rush into. Normally, she's a very rash person, but for this she wants to take her time. She wants to do this right, she wants to make sure that she's read the situation right. Because she refuses to ruin the beautiful and complex friendship that they have built with one another over the last fifteen years. She refuses to break down something the pair have them have been working on since they were children. Overcoming obstacles like personality clashes and vastly different lifestyles and being literally worlds apart.

So she keeps the realisation to herself, and if Regina sees it in her eyes then she doesn't comment. Probably, if Emma is correct (and of course she is because she knows Regina better than she knows the back of her hand) it is because she doesn't wish to frighten Emma. She lies down on her bed, face towards the mirror and she talks to Regina until sleep overtakes her. Even as she drifts off, she can feel Regina sitting at the mirror, can hear her talking softly, soothingly. And Emma thinks that if this is how love is always going to feel, she doesn't mind it at all.


	7. Chapter 7

Regina had often found herself feeling drained in recent years. The pressures of being the Queen, the sole reigning monarch of an entire Kingdom often weighed heavily upon her shoulders. Or so she had found. She worked tirelessly and diligently to keep her Kingdom safe and secure. Most of her days were spent holding court, brokering deals with rude merchants whom often forgot their place and trying desperately to keep her Kingdom prosperous and taxes down.

Somehow she had managed to keep her Kingdom afloat, despite the best efforts of her mutinous court. After the demise of her husband, a man whom many of her court had despised, most of unmarried nobility had tried to force themselves upon her as a new husband. Most had been beneath her in status, but that had not stopped them for even a second. Young, beautiful and wealthy, they had all seen her as a prize to be won. A possession to be gained. A conquest to be conquered. A conquest accompanied with none other than an increased social status and a Kingdom.

Little did they know that her heart had already been stolen by a fair blonde with a fierce heart, her Emma, from a realm so very far away that they wouldn't have been able to fathom the distance. Still, of course, when faced with refusal upon refusal, they had all become less gentlemanly than their breeding was supposed to allow. Alas, it had not taken long for her to find herself faced with a bloody coup.

The Nobles of her Kingdom had rebelled, and she had found herself in an almost helpless position. Almost before she had known what was happening, she had had a civil war on her hands. Never before had she considered that such a thing could of happened, but it had. It had been brutal but thankfully short lived. Though it had cost many their lives.

The people had rallied before her, loyal to the last. The nobles had not known what to do with that. Regina was one of the wealthiest monarchs in the Enchanted Forest, she had plenty of supplies, almost unlimited coffers. The nobles had found themselves unable to match her and so she had outmanoeuvred them. Then of course, many had been tried and found guilty of high treason. For which, of course, the only sentence she could possibly give was death. She had culled the nobility of her land, and she had been utterly merciless in doing so.

The nobility whom had been among her family's court for countless generations had found themselves without their heads of houses. In a few instances Regina had to sentence as many as three generations to death. Her mother had instilled into her that mercy was a trait not fit for a queen. If she was merciful and floundering against those who wished to destroy her, they would do exactly that with barely a backwards glance.

She had spent many a sleepless night since then, thinking about all she had had to do. She had told Emma about it all, about her fears and her hopes for a future full of peace and prosperity. And Emma had told her about how she sounded like the princess she had known of old. Emma had managed to make her smile even in her darkest moments.

Even now, after more than a year of peace with not even minor skirmishes, she still finds herself faced with night upon night of sleeplessness. Now, however, it is not fear for her life that concerns her. She doesn't spend every night tossing and turning, listening for the slight creak of a door hinge, peering into the shadows of her vast bed chamber. Instead she finds herself staring at the ceiling, her mind working a mile a minute.

Regina finds herself trying to unpick the most complex of puzzles. No matter how hard she thinks about it, she just can't seem to find a solution. The matter constantly on her mind, the one thing she yearns for with the entirety of her being, is a way to get Emma and Henry here with her. She knows, quite simply, that if she could find a way Emma would not hesitate. She would pack up hers and Henry's things and she would be here in a second.

Regina knows that the whole process must centre around the mirror, so unchanged on her side. She knows that, she just doesn't know how. Her magic is unpredictable in its nature, untameable at best. It works in a way that is unprecedented. It is based off of a survival instinct, and it causes her to lash out in a rather violent manner when she feels cornered or threatened.

Her magic is dark in nature, not evil necessarily, but dark. It is murkier than fairy magic, and that makes it difficult to harness. It is there to protect her when she needs it, in the most dire of circumstances, but she doesn't know how to use it. How to make it reach its fullest potential. If she could, well, she would be unstoppable. Her and Emma and Henry would finally be able to be a family, and there would be no question about it.

It is on such a sleepless night, although it is still early, although her mood is much less brooding than it normally is on such occasions, that she finds herself with a need to speak to Emma. She finds herself in front of the mirror, a small smile gracing her features. She thinks of Emma and Henry, the feeling of family prevalent in her chest. The scene she sees before her when she opens her eyes makes her smile form into a fully fledged grin. She stands there, grinning like an idiot at the scene unveiling before her.

In the tiny room that is familiarly Emma's, she sees the mother and son, spread eagled across the bed that takes up the majority of the room. They are talking softly and laughing. The sound of Henry's breathless giggles makes her heart stutter in joy. If it were possible, her grin would be stretched even further, but as it is already stretched from ear to ear.

She stands before her mirror, utterly enraptured with the scene before her. There is something so soft about Emma when she is in Henry's presence, so very different to the cynical and unhappy child she once knew. Her Emma has grown into the definition of bliss. Her smile is gentle and happy where it was once forced. She no longer winces from injuries Regina's eyes can not see when she moves. She embraces Henry with an ease that she would never have believed Emma of being able to possess.

She watches for a long time, longer than is polite. She's sure that Mother is turning in her grave at her very lack of manners, or perhaps just at her pining for a woman she had never actually strictly met. She stands with her eyes feasting on the scene before her, a huge amount of warmth building within her chest. She watches for what feels like mere seconds, but she knows that she could probably watch this scene for hours upon hours and never once get bored. In fact, there's not even a chance of her getting bored if she can watch her two loves in such a way.

Finally, after a very long while, Emma's head turns towards her, almost as if she had known that Regina was watching from the beginning. Her smile, when directed at Regina through the pane of glass, is bright and happy and so warm that she feels its full effects. There is something about it that promises a future and a forever and Regina finds that she can see it in her eyes.

And then Henry flops on top of his mother, using her momentary distraction to his advantage. All smiles and high pitched excited giggles. His eyes find Regina's and he stills atop his mother, holding her gaze. He rolls off of Emma and comes to a stand still at the very edge of the bed, raising himself into sitting position at the edge of the bed, in the same way that he has many times before. By now it is a practiced routine, one that Henry has put a great deal of though into.

Regina watches as Emma scoots herself around, legs sliding into place on either side of the little boy, her head resting atop of his. Her smile has morphed into her signature dopey grin, and it makes Regina's heart flutter far more than she will ever admit to. How every aspect of Emma ensnares her so much she had no idea, but she is so far beyond entranced that it seems impossible to break the spell cast upon her. Not that she'd want to, but still.

She asks Henry about how school is going, because although she doesn't quite understand how schooling works in Emma's world, she knows that he started last month, and she hasn't spoken to him since then. He takes a deep breath, before starting to ramble on about his teachers (whom are supposedly the same as a tutor in the Enchanted Forest) and his classes and his new friends. And then he starts on about play dates and the sleepover he's supposed to be going to soon. Regina sees the discomfort on Emma's face at this point, and makes a note to herself to question her about this later.

He talks for what seems like hours, and not once does Regina get bored. She doesn't think it would be possible for her to love this tiny little boy any more, not even if he had come from her own womb. He talks until his energy starts to run out, until his animated little voice dissolves into sleepy mumbles and a head lolling back against Emma's chest. Both hers and Emma's smiles are so far beyond tender as they watch this.

Emma shifts carefully behind him, before gathering him up into her arms, careful not to disturb him. Regina can't help but to admire the strength that is Emma, she watches her arm muscles flex as she lifts the little boy into her arms with apparent ease. Regina's mind almost runs rampant, but she manages to keep it in check. She is a queen, and a queen should be composed at every moment, she is also still in the presence of a child.

After Henry has settled against his Mother's chest, head comfortably in the crook of Emma's neck, Emma smiles at her and mouths at her to wait. As if she would possibly be able to leave just yet. Emma has barely taken a step, before Henry snaps to and insists on saying a proper good night to Regina. He is still half asleep, eyes barely managing to stay half way open, fluttering in his fight against sleep.

Still, around huge yawns he manages to say goodnight. And it is so utterly endearing that Regina can't keep the soft smile off of her face. By the time he is finished, his eyes are barely open. She can barely make out what he's saying, his words are all running together in a sleepy mumble. Just as his words stutter out however, she makes out one final word. And it is this word that causes her heart to skip a beat and her eyes to tear up. Henry had called her 'Mom'.

She can feel the warmth spiking in her chest, so much warmer than she had ever imagined it could be. Emma smiles at her, tears in her own eyes, the sleepy little bundle of a boy in his teddy bear pyjamas oblivious in her arms. Something seems to click into place, and she knows that the way Emma is looking at her means home. It also means a promise of family and forever, no matter what. And Regina swears that she can feel the warmth within her grow tenfold.


	8. Chapter 8

Emma swears that as Henry gets older the days just seem to get longer and longer. First, there had been the waking every four hours to feed him, or change him or soothe and rock him back to sleep. Then there had been the five thirty wake up calls from an overly energetic and giggly three year olds who found that the best game in the world was to bounce on Momma's stomach until she rolled out of bed. Now that he was slightly older though, she didn't understand where his boundless energy came from. No matter how long the day was, no matter how much they did, he still always seemed to be bouncing off the walls until almost bed time.

Today she couldn't say she was surprised, after all, it was his birthday, but damn she didn't get enough sleep for this. Then again all that mattered to her was that he had a wonderful day. They'd started the day by talking to Regina, all three of them had still been half asleep but it had been nice. Henry had opened his presents in front of the mirror, and the warmth in Regina's smile (not to mention the tears in her eyes that neither of them would mention) had caused such happiness in Emma that she didn't think it was possible for her to feel any more positive.

Then after they had said goodbye to Regina for the day, she had queenly business to go about for the rest of the day, Emma had taken Henry to see some mind numbing super hero film or the other. He'd loved every second of it, and from the second they had left the movie theatre, all the way to lunch he hadn't stopped talking once. Emma was almost certain that he'd forgotten to breathe in his excitement. To the point that his cheeks had been flushed bright red in his excitement and his little chest had been heaving. She hadn't been able to decide whether that was because she had the entire day off work to spend with him for once or just because it was his birthday.

After lunch, by which point Emma was already tired enough to sleep, they had gone to the park. They fed the ducks all the stale bread they'd had in the apartment and had ice cream and Henry had run around for what felt like hours, all innocence and smiles and happy laughter. And Emma had watched and reminded herself that she had made him, this perfect little person. Even if she never did another thing right in her life, she'd gotten him right. And that was enough for her, because he was practically perfect.

They'd gone home and had dinner, just the two of them. For once she had actually had time to cook. Nothing fancy, of course, just macaroni and cheese, but it was Henry's favourite. He'd been practically bouncing in his chair for the entire meal, trying to talk through every mouthful, and even through her exhaustion Emma had found his good mood more than catching. It was something she tended to find a lot of the time when she spent time with her little man.

She'd then gone on to surprise him with a birthday cake, homemade no less. Nothing fancy, just chocolate and frosting, but he'd looked at her with so much happiness and love in his face that Emma had found herself in danger of crying. She found that a lot where Henry was concerned, she thought it must be part of being someone's mother. They'd eaten cake, a lot of cake, and then they'd slumped down on the coach when they'd eaten their fill, stuffed and content.

They ended a pretty much perfect day with a load of cartoons. Hours upon hours of ninja turtles and spongebob, until Henry's eyes finally started to droop and his head kept nodding against his chest. Emma had carried him through to bed, his head nestled against the crook of her neck, and it had been like it always was when he was small. When he was so tiny and she was his entire world. She hadn't even minded the fact that he'd drooled down the neck line of her tank top.

After she'd put him to bed and gotten him settled and stopped watching him sleep, she had decided that it was late enough to be excusable for her to go to bed. So she'd finally collapsed into bed after a very long but lovely day, and found herself full with a need to talk to Regina, to see her. Before she can even think about what she's doing, Regina is in her mind and she focuses solely upon every aspect of her.

She turns towards the mirror, and the sight she finds herself beholding makes her throat go dry. Emma's pretty sure she can feel her temperature sky rocketing, but she can't seem to think. She can feel her mind going blank, almost as if everything has short circuited. She's pretty sure that she's gaping at Regina, or rather, Regina's bare back but she can't bring herself to care enough to snap her jaw shut.

She'd always known that Regina was so far beyond beautiful that it made her heart ache, but as she stares she knows that this is on an entirely different level. This is a sight she will never not be able to unsee, she's almost certain that it will be glued to the back of her eyelids whenever they close until her dying day. And maybe even beyond because good god. Not that she minds of course, but as she looks at her she knows that this is the end of any pretence between them. She will never be able to pretend that she doesn't want Regina ever again.

Regina is in her boudoir, and she's half naked. Mercifully, she's facing away from the mirror and her lower half is covered, but Emma can see more of her skin than she ever has before and man she thinks she would be pretty much willing to do anything to see more. Her smooth and olive toned skin is flawless in the flickering over head candle light of Regina's world. Emma can just barely make out the dimples on her lower back that seem to disappear below her waist band. She finds her eyes roving over Regina's back, drinking in the sight of her, unable to help herself, unable to draw her eyes away.

Emma can feel her heart pounding in her chest, much faster than she thought was possible, as though trying to beat it's way through her rib cage to prove her unswerving devotion to a woman so many worlds away. Her throat aches in how dry it has become, but Emma can't bring herself to mind. Finally, after the longest few moments of her life, she clears her throat, to alert Regina to her presence.

She watches as Regina's head cocks to one side, alerted to her presence, but not turning to face her just yet. It is something that Emma finds herself eternally grateful for, because they are worlds apart and if she sees Regina in such a state of undress she's sure to want to touch her, more so than she does already, and that is simply not something that she can do. Maybe some day. She watches as Regina slips a length of silky material down over her head. Emma notes that her perfectly styles hair doesn't budge, maybe that is part of being a queen. When she is covered, Emma calls her name, softly. If she was a religious person she's almost certain she would say it was something akin to a prayer.

Regina finally turns to face her, and the smirk she is wearing on her beautiful face suggests that she is very much aware of the effect she is having on Emma. It drives Emma crazy, because how is it possible for the woman to know her so well, to practically be able to read her mind, at every possible moment? How is it that she manages such a thing? Then again, Emma supposes as she recalls a conversation they had not that long ago, she has the same effect on Regina.

She can feel her face flushing fire truck red as Regina looks at her in that knowing way of hers. She knows exactly how she effects Emma, and she likes, or possibly loves, the effect she has on her. Her gaze is warm and soft and so deep and unwavering as she looks at Emma. It's full of devotion and Emma can feel herself returning the looks other hesitation. It feels deeper than anything they have shared previously, almost like a promise that has never before passed between them.

As Regina looks at her, Emma finds the words she's been longing to say for such a long while tripping on the very edge of her tongue. Playing a game, as though fighting against themselves to get out, not knowing if they dare to release themselves. For the first time she finds herself able to voice everything she feels for the wonderful woman on the other side of the glass. She finds herself wanting to voice it for the first time, to say it out loud and express her devotion and adoration for the other woman. She knows that she will never feel this way about another person, because there has never been and will never be another person who could compare to Regina.

Not for her at least. Regina is, without a doubt, her best and only friend. She has been the only constant in Emma's very changeable life. For most of Emma's life Regina has been the only unwavering factor, the only person who has cared for her without pause and never asked for anything in return. She knows that she loves her more than words can express, and she is so beyond ready to voice how she feels. And she knows that Regina is waiting for her, not wanting to scare her away with words that she is not ready to hear.

And so she takes a deep breath and slides to the edge of her bed, feet planted firmly upon the worn carpet and a wide grin plastered across her face. She couldn't be more sure about this if she tried. She looks at Regina, and she was wrong, she's even more sure now, in this moment. Her eyes lock on Regina's and the words leave her in a breathless rush "I'm in love with you."

And Regina doesn't look shocked exactly, maybe just a little startled. And her beautiful, warm brown eyes widen a little and then fill with tears. Tears that spill over and seep down her cheeks, even as her smirk morphs into the most breath taking of smiles. It's a watery smile, but it's strong and happy and sure and it makes Emma's breath catch in her throat. Regina's eyes shine with adoration and happiness and more than a little relief.

When she whispers the word back, so quietly that Emma can barely hear them, they are full of awe and wonder. Almost as if she had grown to believe that she would never hear the words spoken aloud. And Emma marvels in the beauty of having some one so utterly wonderful and patient love her.

Their hands meet against the glass of the mirror in a pattern do well practised that it is practically a reflex reaction. Emma almost believes that she can fell the warmth of Regina's hand against hers, almost. Obviously she knows that she can't, and normally it would bother her a little bit. But in this moment, this is more than enough for her. Regina is looking at her with eyes softer than she has ever seen before, and Emma knows what it is to feel fully and truly loved by some one other than her son.


	9. Chapter 9

Regina had found, in the recent months, that Emma and Henry had slowly crept into every aspect of her life. Every waking moment was spent thinking about them, and how perfect their family was, even if they were not strictly together in the sense of a conventional family. Every thought she had encompassed her love and their beautiful little boy in some way or another. He was theirs, even if biology dictated otherwise. Even if she had never had the chance to hold him in her arms, or nurse him when he was sick. They were things that she longed for, but he was still both of theirs.

It had surprised her, the first time she had thought of Emma as hers. In the past, when her husband had claimed her as his, she had felt like a possession, a trophy and little else. Now, Emma was hers and she was very much Emma's and that was a freeing thought. It was freedom in every sense of the word, and she loved how the thought made her feel. Such thoughts were often accompanied by an aching and a longing for the other woman though. She found herself longing to hold Emma, to love her completely. Often, she would find her mind slipping at the most inopportune of moments, to thoughts that were less than savoury. They were the sorts of thoughts that should make a woman blush.

One moment, she would be listening to her Court (newly formed and loyal to the last but so utterly dull), discussing tax levels and harvest yields. Important topics but so very boring. The next, her mind would be slipping to thoughts of how Emma would feel held against her, soft and warm but unyielding in a way that only Emma would be able to manage before a queen. She would spend hours considering how Emma's lips would taste against her own, how her hands would feel when held between her own. She often found herself agonising over how it would feel to fall into a routine of waking in the same bed as her love, every morning for the rest of their lives, no pane of glass as a constant barrier between them.

She longed for the warmth of the woman she loved, there to warm her on the coldest of bitter winter nights. She longed for her presence, solid and unyielding and here with her. She longed for Emma's voice and Emma's touch. The press of a hand to a cheek, the ghosting of fingers over a back in the most reassuring and comforting of ways. She longed for these things with the entirety of her being, and such things were eternally out of her grasp.

Her life of stolen moments before a mirror with Emma and Henry would always be more than enough, because she had her two loves where many did not, but a selfish part of her could not help but wish for more. She wished for the sort of life that she watched so many others have. Yet, she herself had found the person she wished to spend her life with, and she only got to spend her life with her through a thick pane of glass.

True love transcended realms, and hers and Emma's was the truest. It was the purest emotion she had ever felt. It had withstood the continual trials of hardship and time and endless confusion, and it had weathered it all. It had even come out of the other side stronger than ever. Their love had transcended realms from the very start, that much had been proven from its formation.

Recently, she had managed to convince herself that every time they both touched the mirror, she could feel the warmth of Emma from the other side. It was almost as though the many worlds between them were not there, everything seemed immaterial when she could feel the reassuring warmth radiating from Emma's palm. Of course, that wasn't happening. Logically she knew this. After all, it was nearly impossible to travel between realms. Regina's magic had grown substantially over the years, she had honed her power, but her magic was nowhere near strong enough to allow for moving between worlds.

If it had been, then she would have crossed to Emma's world with barely a backwards glance. She would have left behind her world without a second thought. It would have taken her next to nothing to abandon everything she had ever known simply for her happy ending with Emma. And with Emma and Henry she would have the happiest of endings it was possible to imagine.

Sadly, the only magic strong enough to transcend realms (other than that of true love) was a wish made by the purest of hearts, such as the one Emma had made all those years ago. The wish that had brought them together in the first place. She would be forever thankful for that wish, even if they lived the rest of their lives never knowing the comfort of the others touch. She knew that she would die happy if she managed to make Emma happy. Such a wish was something she could never had, because her heart was branded with murderer. Such a word tended to blacken even the purest of souls, and Regina had not started as one of the truly innocent. She had her mother to thank for that.

The darkness of her soul was something that she did not feel when she was with Emma. Somehow her soul felt lighter, and the lives she had taken to protect herself almost seemed to vanish, their weight lifted off of her shoulders when she was in Emma and Henry's presence. She could forget all that she had had to do, even if only for hours at a time. She wished to feel such lightness for all eternity, but she supposed that such things were simply not to be, not for her any way.

Her and Emma spoke almost every evening, for hours at a time. Most evenings they talked until one of them fell asleep, curled up before the mirror, wrapped in blankets to escape the chill of the evening world. More often than not, it is Emma who falls asleep first, worn out from the job in which she works ridiculously long hours for a pittance and from an energetic little boy who just isn't so little any more. She nearly always falls asleep curled up in a ball, facing the mirror, golden hair sprawled out all around her face, arm stretched out over the edge of the bed, reaching out towards Regina even as she falls into dream land.

It is on such an evening, one in which Henry had joined his mothers, that Regina finds herself revelling in Emma. Sometimes she finds it hard to grasp that such a beautiful woman loves her, wholly and without reserve, even knowing the awful things she had done in the name of survival. It surprises her, but she is so far beyond grateful that she was allowed a chance a true love, that she won't allow herself to question it for one moment.

It is long after Henry has gone to sleep on the far side of the bed, worn down after a long day of adventures and fun and imagination, and Emma and Regina are still talking. It's late, very late, and she knows that Emma has work in the morning, but neither of them can quite bring themselves to say goodnight, not this evening. Their hands are placed against the mirror, in an age old way that is very much a subconscious move on both of their parts. A way of feeling closer together without admitting their always growing longing.

Once again, Regina could almost swear that she can feel Emma's hand pressed against hers, warm and solid and simply there. It feels so real as they talk that she can feel her palm tingling from the imagined contact. It feels so real though, that she finds her eyes drawn to the sight over and over again, her eyes wandering from Emma's face as she talks, focusing on the sight before her. It's madness, but she finds herself with an urge to lace their fingers, to feel Emma's calloused hand intertwined with her smooth one. She thinks that the contrast between them would be the most comforting feeling she could ever wish for.

She finds herself shaking her head to clear it of such thoughts, thoughts like that are more harmful than they are helpful. They can't have more, they will never be able to have more, but that does not mean that they can't be happy. Because they can be and they will be. Regina notices that everything is quiet, and that Emma has stopped talking. She looks up from their hands, and the sad smile on Emma's face breaks her heart a little. She watches as Emma pushes her hand a little more firmly against the glass, and it is unyielding in its smooth surface.

She tells Regina that this, what they have, will always be enough for her, and that she couldn't possibly ask for more, when she already has so much. She has barely finished her words before Regina feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and the surface of the mirror ripples beneath both of their hands. Emma gives a startled gasp, and Regina's eyes widen in wonder, but she is speechless and neither of them move away.

The surface of the mirror ripples, it's continuity breaking so that Regina can only see fragments of Emma as she watches the surface swirl. She doesn't know what is happening, something powerfully magical but whether it is working for them or against them she has no idea. Something strange happens, Regina blinks and the rippling across the surface is gone.

Emma is still sitting there before her, a puzzled frown spread across her beautiful face. Henry is still sleeping peacefully on the other side of the room. Emma's hand is still against the mirror, or at least it is still supported by something.

Regina comes to the realisation that she can feel warmth against her skin, actual warmth and not a ghost of warmth from the depths of her imagination. She looks down, and what she finds causes a brilliant grin to spread across her features. She almost finds herself crying with relief at the sight she sees.

Where the mirror once was a barrier between them, there is now no pane of glass. There is just Emma and Henry and the warmth against her hand feels like home and safety and happiness. Emma's face is still a confused mask. Slowly, Regina curls her fingers so that they slot in between Emma's, and she's not surprised that their hands fit together perfectly.

At the movement Emma looks down at their hands. Her eyes flit between Regina and their now joined hands, eyes filling with tears and a noise of incredulous disbelief escaping from between her lips. She holds Regina's gaze even as the tears start to flood down her cheeks and her shoulders start to shake with sobs of relief.

Emma sits so close to the mirror that she is close enough for Regina to reach out and touch. Tentatively, her other hand finds its way to where the mirror used to sit, and she almost expects the way to be obstructed, but she finds her way unhindered, no obstacles in her path. Her hand comes up to caress Emma's cheek and wipe away the tears that continue to flow.

Emma is soft but solid and present beneath her hands and she can't help but thank every single god she can think of for this moment. She wipes the tears away from Emma's cheeks and she holds her gaze and suddenly they are embracing through the empty mirror frames in their very much separated worlds, and the relief in Regina's chest is so palpable that she almost joins Emma in her tears of relief.


	10. Chapter 10

Emma isn't sure how long her and Regina stand entwined between the two worlds, between the remains of the barrier that once separated them but she's almost certain that it is a very long time. No matter how long she holds on tight to Regina, almost clinging to her, it doesn't quite feel like long enough. It almost feels as if she could embrace her for the rest of time, and it would never quite be long enough.

If Regina didn't feel so real in her arms, so present and so truly there, she'd think it was a dream. A cruel dream, but one she's more than familiar with by now. In her dreams, especially recently, Regina had crossed between their worlds more often than she can say. But now it has finally happened, after years of believing that it never would. Regina feels solid against her front, where they are pressed so tightly together that she can't tell where she ends and Regina begins. She feels solid beneath Emma's timidly questing hands, one against Regina's back, the other firmly clasping a hip, planting her in place and keeping her close.

Her head is buried in the crook of the other woman's neck, lips less than an inch from the skin, planted in the comforting warmth, fitting just so. Almost as though they were made to interlock in the way that they finally have. She finds herself buried with her head in Regina's neck, and she feels more at home than she ever has before. She feels something actively click into place while Regina holds her, arms tightly encircling her waist and keeping her pressed against her front, a feeling of rightness that she's never felt before. It is a certainty that she had lacked, knowing that she would spend her life dedicated to this woman, but never knowing if she would get to be with her. With the certainty comes a rush of love and devotion, warmer as it settles in her chest than she has ever before felt it.

The other woman holds Emma tightly, clasped in her arms and pulled protectively against her front. She holds her fiercely, almost as if she will never be willing to let go, daring any one to try and make her. Almost as though she has dreamed about this moment for years (for almost a decade, as Emma will later find out) and now that it is here she scarcely dares to believe that this moment is real.

Although it feels like a dream, Emma knows in her heart and soul, in her very being, that this moment is real. Her dreams have never felt like this before. Never. Her dreams had always been vague and blurred, faded around the edges. She had always seemed to watch from a strangers perspective, and she had felt vaguely detached from it all in her sleep. She couldn't feel further from detached now she knows, she feels more alive than she has for months. Her dreams had only ever felt like an echo of this, a promise for one day or maybe some day that she never thought could be fulfilled.

But it has been fulfilled, it has finally been fulfilled. Regina is holding her and she is here, with her. Most definitely in Emma's arms. They are alive and together and wrapped up in one another. Blissfully unaware of the fact that their embrace spans several realms. Not to mention that their love had somehow managed to transcend realms in a fashion that none other had pane of glass that has been a permanent barrier between the two of them for almost as long as either of them can remember (because both Emma and Regina can remember ever moment of their time together) no longer separates them, and Emma feels so happy that she could burst.

After the longest but most enjoyable of times, Regina's grip on Emma slackens ever so slightly, as if she's suddenly certain that Emma is here, and that she can touch her. As if she is finally certain that Emma won't be taken away at the tip of a hat. Emma relaxes her own grip, grin firmly in place in her face, face still planted firmly in the crook of Regina's neck. Her nose is pressed against the gentle slope of where Regina's neck meets her shoulder, and while she waits for Regina to speak, she revels in the warmth and how good Regina smells. It dawns on her out of the blue that she could have waited three thousand more nights and never of gotten the chance to learn how Regina smells.

Regina draws back slightly and so Emma finds herself doing the same. Her eyes meet Regina's for the first time in what seems like hours (and probably is, in all fairness) and her stomach flips excitedly at the idea of there no longer being a mirror between them. Regina's eyes are full of love and wonder and so much happiness that Emma finds herself in awe of the fact that she had put it there.

Hesitantly, her hand raises itself, halting and jerky in its movements, before it comes to rest against Regina's cheek. It rests there, the milk of Emma's skin contrasting with Regina's in a way that Emma finds herself drawn to. It is a sight she has imagined many times, but it could never compare to this. Regina's skin is smooth and soft, and Emma finds herself thinking that she's just I damned perfect. A master piece like none ever before seen. It takes her breath away, hitching and catching in her throat. It sticks there for a long second, before Emma finds her eyes drifting to Regina's lips.

She's imagined kissing her more times than she can remember, first as a teenager and then more and more as she had realised the nature of what lay between them. She brings Regina's face closer to hers, and her head tilts almost of its own accord, but she doesn't just kiss her, even though her lips ache to do nothing else. Emma stands with her beautiful Queen before her, whose breathing has sped up in something like anticipation, but it isn't until she hears Regina breath out her name, almost pleading in its breathlessness, that she kisses her.

She dips her head slightly (she'd never realised that she was ever so slightly taller than Regina) and captures Regina's lips. It's a soft and extremely tender first kiss, but Regina sighs Emma's name against her lips in contentment and Emma knows that she'll never forget the sound of it, even if she were to never hear it again. Regina's legs step through the empty mirror frames, into her bedroom, and all at once they're pressed together from head to toe. Emma revels in the warmth, making sure to not get caught up in the heat of the moment, she wants a memorable first kiss, worthy of the Queen she is lucky enough to have in her arms.

Henry stirs behind them, a mumble of 'Mom' falling from between his lips, and she and Regina separate reluctantly, hands clasped and intertwined. Emma turns towards the bed, drawing Regina with her. Henry's turned onto his side, facing the wall away from where they stand, pressed closely together in the tiny space. He rolls over, his eyes fluttering open, only managing to make it halfway in his half asleep state. "Mom, wassup?" He mumbles, hand coming up to rub his eyes, blinking against the soft light of the room.

His eyes find Emma and Regina, and Emma watches as they cloud in confusion before flying wide open. He sits bolt upright, his jaw going slack, and she knows that he can't believe what he's seeing. His eyes flit between them and the edge of the empty mirror frame that he can just about see from his vantage point on his bed. Emma watches as their clever little boy connects the pieces and joins the dots, brain working over time in his frazzled and sleepy state.

She sees the exact moment when the last piece clicks into place, and a huge smile overtakes his face, even as he fights off an enormous yawn. Suddenly, he's leaping at them, bouncing across the double bed, throwing an arm around both of their necks. His brilliant little face is lit up with more happiness than ever before, which is saying something, because he's a happy little kid. That was something she's always made sure of.

Her arm encircles him, and she lifts him off the bed with her spare arm. She watches Regina's face, her eyes fill with tears and she drops a kiss on the top of Henry's rumpled hair. She watches as Regina draws him closer with her spare arm, rubbing his back even as the tears start to fall. Over the top of his head, she mouths two words at Emma, and she grins back at her in reassurance. The sight and inclusion of the moment makes her feel like she could take over the world or climb a mountain with her hands tied behind her back. In that moment, she feels invincible.

Some time later, long after Emma's arm has gone numb from supporting Henry's weight (after all, he's not a baby any more), they relocate to the bed. Emma can't help but notice how comfortable Regina looks here, dressed in all her finery and still looking every inch the queen that she is. They sit on either side of the bed, leaning against the head board, hands still clasped with Henry nestled between them. Regina looks regal even splayed against her bedding, poised and so damned beautiful. She supposes that Regina must have men and women alike throwing themselves at her feet on a daily basis. Hell knows, she would be one of them if she had been born in the Enchanted Forest.

Emma finds herself reviewing the impossible situation they are now in. They're from different worlds, vastly different worlds, and the way they live couldn't be further from different. No matter what they do now, it's going to mean a huge adjustment for all of them. All she knows is that she can't be apart from Regina for any longer, and she's pretty certain that Henry feels the same way.

She brings the situation up to Regina, who looks thoughtful as she raises Emma's hand, so that she can brush her lips along the back of it. She tilts her head to the side so that she can fully meet Emma's eyes before she speaks, and when she does, Emma can feel her heart picking up speed in her chest.

"Dearest, I don't care what world we live in, so long as I'm with you and Henry. You two are my world, and I've lived without you for the longest time. I'll be happy so long as I don't have to do that again."

Emma kisses her chastely, awash with the warmth the words bring her. In the end, after talking every possibility around in circles for hours, they reach a rather rash decision. When Henry wakes, they put the question of where to live to him. Without even pausing for breath, but merely for an eye roll (which looks ridiculous when done by a eight year old) he replies with "Through the mirror." As though it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Emma finds herself hurrying around and packing up the essentials. She phones her landlord and the bakery and Henry's school. They're ready before lunch time, and Emma knows that all she will miss of their world is their tiny flat that Emma had worked so hard for, in which Henry had rolled over and crawled and walked and said his first word. She meets Regina and Henry in her room (they've all been rushing around sorting out different things all morning) and they stand before the frame of the mirror for a second.

Emma can feel the nerves rushing through her. She feels a hand clasp hers, and looks down to find Regina's fingers interlocking with hers, dampening the nerves some what. Henry looks up at her with a grin spread from ear to ear across his tiny face, and she's pretty sure that he's certain enough for all three of them combined.

They share a collective look and Emma spares a second for a final glance around her room, at the home she had tried to build for her and her son, only to find that they had been missing an integral piece. Clasping them hand entwined with hers more tightly and with a guiding hand on Henry's back, she takes a deep and steadying breath before stepping through the frame.

She finds herself in Regina's room, and she takes a second to get her bearings. Emma searches Henry's face, and he looks thrilled and more certain than should be possible, but it strengthens her resolve more than she can say. She looks up at Regina's face, only to find the same blissful smile on her face and it makes her sure. She is home when she is with her family. She hears Henry's huge intake of breath and knows that he's about to start talking a mile a minute, so she gets ready to listen.

She feels a slight breeze pick up in the room, where a second before the air had been still. She looks back and finds that the mirror is just a mirror where it had never just been a mirror before. It reaffirms what she already knows and with her fingers still linked with Regina's and her son starting to talk a mile a minute, she takes a further stride into her new home, this new world, and she watches Regina smile and she just knows that it was the right decision.


End file.
